


I know you when you can't lie

by Shadowcrawler, unwindmyself



Series: follow me down the rabbit hole [17]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Coping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Discipline, Emotional Baggage, F/F, Femslash, Gags, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Polyamory, Massage, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 11:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: Everyone is back on Earth, for the time being, and Jemma wants to apologize.





	I know you when you can't lie

**Author's Note:**

> (we deal with canon as we must)
> 
> set after 6.09.

It’s a little after ten thirty when Daisy hears the knock on her door. “Daisy?” Jemma calls, sounding strained. 

Immediately Daisy, who was startled, relaxes. “Hey,” she says softly. “C’mon in.”

Jemma does, and then she seems to realize she’s carried in a bottle of beer and promptly flutters her free hand about it. “Can I put it down somewhere?” she asks.

“Oh, sure. Floor’s fine, I guess.” Daisy tilts her head. “What’s up?”

“Everything, nothing, and then everything again,” Jemma says. “It’s like I can’t put two coherent thoughts together.”

“Uh oh.” Daisy pats the bed next to her. “Sit down, Jem. We’ll talk about it, or whatever you want.”

“Don’t know what I want,” Jemma mumbles, half-sitting and half-flopping next to Daisy. “That’s the problem. Part of the problem. I’m feeling things, but not all of the things I feel like I should be feeling. I should be happy, right?”

Daisy shrugs. “I guess so, yeah. I mean, I kind of feel like this is the calm before even more bullshit, but for now, everything seems to be okay. We stopped the monsters and that bastard’s locked up, so we won, or something like that.”

Jemma nods, but she hesitates before she continues, like she feels guilty for saying it. “But I, I got what I wanted. What I almost ruined everything to get. That should be enough, but it’s…” She sighs and motions toward Daisy’s shoulder. “Can I?”

“Of course,” Daisy says. “C’mere.” She slips her arm around Jemma and pulls her close.

Close is good, and Jemma relaxes into Daisy’s embrace and spends a good thirty seconds just deep-breathing before she says, even softer, “I risked everything. I got what I wanted, and I should just focus on that and be glad, but all of the what-ifs keep looping.”

“I think that’s normal,” Daisy says. “Especially with anxiety. You wanna talk about them?”

“Well, obviously there’s ‘what if I managed to hasten the arrival of another killer space monster’?” Jemma sighs. “That’s not a habit one wants to get in.”

“Yeah, not really, but I don’t think that was your fault. I think that was probably Izel’s fault.”

“Probably, but then again, we did help her get the ship here,” Jemma sighs. “Rather the polite thing to do when someone, even a killer space monster, prevents you from being decapitated.”

Daisy shrugs. “I don’t think anyone blames you guys for that. I mean, she seems really, um...let’s go with driven.”

“That’s one word,” Jemma says. “But still. You know me, how I… and besides, once is bad luck, anything more than is a troubling pattern.”

“Bad luck is bad luck,” Daisy insists, “and- wait, hold on a second, _decapitated_?”

“Part of the saving our lives on Kitson,” Jemma says, wrinkling her nose. “It was a lot to get into with everyone listening, altogether too much backstory and whatnot, but you know the backstory because you were there.” She laughs nervously. “It’s another thing on my list of bad thoughts, obviously. So we were there in the casino, which I might add is _dreadful_ without intoxicants, and the actual Mr. Kitson decided he’d better go ahead and take us prisoners because Fitz and Enoch cheated at space gambling. After the absolute most miserable bondage experience I’ve ever had, it was decided we should both be participants in a game of ‘who accidentally guillotines themselves first,’ but Izel saw value in us, so some bar creep guillotined himself instead and we went free. Not a wonderful thing to see, that, even out of the corner of your eye.”

Daisy shudders and rubs her back. “Jesus. I’m so sorry, Jemma, that sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t the worst experience I’ve ever had,” Jemma mumbles, “but it would make the list. What kind of person thinks decapitation is a funny party game?”

“Crazy bitches?” Daisy suggests.

“Why is it that every place we’ve been in space is full of those?” Jemma groans, slumping more heavily against Daisy’s shoulder. “Incidentally, the term is too kind of a way to describe Enoch’s… associates.”

“I kind of figured, what with the kidnapping and murder and all.”

“Remember the memory machine?” Jemma asks.

Daisy blinks. “Yeah. Why?”

“They had one of those, but worse,” Jemma says. “And we were both stuck in it together, allegedly trying to figure out the secret to time travel, but I’m _fairly_ certain it was actually just an elaborate torture device. We had to be in each other’s minds, literally.” She makes a face.

“ _Yikes._ ” Daisy winces. “That sounds horrible.”

“Worse than,” Jemma sighs. “I had a meltdown and reverted to a seven-year-old until he angered me into being an adult again by mentioning his robot girlfriend. The monster in his head appeared and tried to kill me, again. Every bad thought I’ve ever had manifested as a demonic alter-ego and tried to kill him, at which point he accused me of being essentially a lunatic in need of serious therapy.”

“Jesus Christ,” Daisy says, because she’s not sure what else to say. “Do you, uh. Do you want a hug?”

Jemma bites her lip and nods. “Obviously we made it out of there alright, and I’m not sure how much of what happened was real and how much was the kind of unconscious thought you think and then push away and go about your life,” she says softly, “but it’s always fun when someone you love implies that your anxiety is worse than their sublimated Nazi… thing.”

Daisy wraps her arms around Jemma. “Yeah. That’s...not fucking great. Is he, I mean...look, I love Fitz too, but wow. Are we sure _he’s_ not a robot? But like, a scary Skynet robot and not a cute WALL-E or Johnny 5 robot with feelings?”

“I wish I could say that I understood him better now,” Jemma mumbles into Daisy’s shoulder. “I think that was the point, allegedly. But what happened was that now in addition to being confused by him, I’m even more confused about myself, and I’m… I wondered if maybe I’m not all that good, either.”

“You are,” Daisy insists. And then she gets an idea. “Hey,” she says, a little hesitantly, “I have an idea of how to help you focus on something else for awhile, if you want. Honey.”

Jemma gulps and pulls back enough to look Daisy in the eyes. “I think I need to be punished,” she whispers. “I could have gotten us all killed.”

“Oh.” Daisy’s eyebrows both go up. “I mean, I wasn’t necessarily thinking of _that_.”

“But I wasn’t good,” Jemma says shakily. “I didn’t… I’m not good.” It doesn’t matter that Daisy just said she was. She’s getting stuck on a thought in that way she does.

“Well,” Daisy says, thinking quickly because if she doesn’t, Jemma will just keep going and that won’t be good for either of them, “how about I tie you up and have you eat me out, huh? That’s one way you can be good.”

Jemma nods. “I wanna,” she says. “I wanna make you feel nice. You’re why I’m still going.”

Daisy kisses her gently. “Good,” she says, running a hand through Jemma’s hair. “Wait here, let me get the ropes and stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” Jemma says. “Ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay, honey,” Daisy says as she stands up, then leans over to kiss Jemma’s forehead before going to rummage in a drawer for the toys. She returns holding some ropes and an O-ring gag. “These alright?”

“Yeah,” Jemma says, though her gaze falls almost shyly once she’s taken note of everything in Daisy’s hands. “Yeah, I wanna be nice for you.”

“Okay.” Daisy pets her hair again, then reaches to start unbuttoning Jemma’s shirt.

“Should I help?” Jemma asks softly. She sort of sounds like she’d prefer Daisy to undress her, but this isn’t about her preferences right now, this is about her making up for a thousand things she’s done and a thousand more she hasn’t.

“No, that’s okay, honey. You just move when I tell you to.” Daisy finishes with the buttons and slides Jemma’s shirt off first one arm and then the other, then unfastens her bra and moves to her pants. “Alright, pants coming off, help me with that.”

Jemma nods. That’s easy. She can listen. She can follow instructions. She lifts her hips, not presumptuous but careful, and she tries to focus on staying still and being helpful and just being here in this moment.

“Good,” Daisy murmurs, working Jemma’s pants and underwear off and tossing them aside. “Now, I want you kneeling on the floor. Do you want a pillow for your knees?”

Jemma contemplates this for a moment. “Yes,” she murmurs, “it’s better for endurance.”

Daisy sets a pillow on the floor and guides her down so she’s kneeling, then nudges her knees just far enough apart to start winding rope around them. “I’m tying your legs and ankles together and then I’ll do your arms behind your back,” she explains. 

“Okay,” Jemma says. “Safe and secure.” It comes out half a question, not because she doesn’t believe it will be but because she wants the reassurance of it.

“Yeah,” Daisy says, giving her a quick kiss on the lips before moving to tie her ankles as well. “I’ve got you.”

“You always do,” Jemma whispers meaningfully.

Daisy nods, tying the last knot. “How does that feel? Tight enough?”

“Yeah,” Jemma says. She wiggles a little, but only because it’s expected to test such things out. Being still is honestly a relief.

“Good. Arms behind your back and together?” Once Jemma follows those instructions, Daisy holds them in place while tying them.

“Yeah,” Jemma repeats, sighing. It’s a calming-down sigh, a comfortable one. Not too comfortable, but as comfortable as she wants to be right now.

“There.” Daisy stands up and gives her a once-over. “Feel good?”

“Yeah,” Jemma says again. Her vocabulary is starting to shrink, but this is the only time and place when that’s a good thing. 

“Good.” Daisy strokes her hair before sitting down on the bed. “Now, scoot forward a little, you’ll be taking care of me.” She starts removing her own clothes.

Jemma nods and scoots as requested (not exactly easy, given the way she’s tied, but she doesn’t mind, she likes putting in the effort) before settling back to watch. It’s not as if it’s been terribly long since she’s seen Daisy more-or-less naked, they shared quarters in space as often as they could without completely blowing Davis’ mind, but it’s been long enough, and besides, they haven’t actually done _this_ in a while. Funny how unpredictable space travel can exhaust you to the point of nearly erasing your sex drive.

Daisy notices Jemma watching, of course, and winks at her. “Enjoying the view, honey?” She takes her time removing her top.

“Always, ma’am,” Jemma murmurs, chancing a flirty smile.

“Thank you. You look pretty too, all done up like that.” Daisy finally tosses the shirt aside and grabs the gag. “Ready for this?” she asks, holding it up.

“Please?” Jemma asks. She’s suddenly aching for the freedom that giving herself brings.

Daisy gathers her hair up off her neck and straps the gag in place. “There,” she says, smiling. “Nod if that’s good.”

Jemma nods, dropping her gaze demurely. She doesn’t want to stare, she doesn’t know if she’s earned staring, but she wants to earn it. She wants to do something right.

“Okay,” Daisy says, arranging herself so she’s seated at the edge of the bed, legs spread. “Now, c’mon, you know what to do.” She gestures to her center, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Jemma hums and leans in, rubbing her cheek along the inside of Daisy’s thigh for just a second before she starts to lick. Ring gags are always interesting because she can be useful with them in, she can, but it severely limits the ways she can do that. Where normally she might be able to kiss a bit, suck a bit more, she’s pretty well limited to whatever her tongue can do. She doesn’t have to think about what her next move will be, it’ll be the same as the one before. Slower, faster, longer, shorter, but comfortingly repetitive.

Daisy sighs, closing her eyes for a second. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “That feels nice, honey. Keep that up.”

The bit of praise makes Jemma smile, though she knows Daisy’s going easy on her, and she obliges, focusing mostly on slower and longer for now. She wants to overwhelm herself with Daisy, with her taste and her smell. She wants Daisy to be her entire world.

Humming contentedly, Daisy lets her hand rest on the back of Jemma’s head. She’s not controlling her or holding her in place, she’s just reminding Jemma she’s there.

But the thing is, that feels right, that’s so right that Jemma wants more, and she pulls back to take a proper breath and butt her head against Daisy’s hand. She wouldn’t argue direction, but she especially wouldn’t argue more intense contact.

“Oh,” Daisy says with a smirk. “You want me to hold on a little tighter, huh?” She digs her fingers in a bit more.

Jemma nods, glancing up for just a second before she leans back in to drag her tongue up Daisy’s slit.

“Ooh, that’s nice,” Daisy moans. “Do that again.”

Jemma does, humming her satisfaction. Anything to get that reaction again.

It works - Daisy pushes her hips against Jemma’s mouth and moans again. “Uh huh, now inside.”

Jemma doesn’t even wait for the full order before she obliges, dipping her tongue in until she’s pressed almost flush against Daisy. Her lips move like she’s trying to give Daisy kisses; her breathing gets a little shallower.

Daisy rocks against Jemma’s tongue. “Good,” she whimpers, “good girl, keep going.”

Even if she wasn’t so desperate to go under, Jemma would find that hard to resist, and she increases her efforts right away. By now her eyes are shut, just so she focuses that much better, and it’s the kind of mindlessness she actually adores.

After letting that work her up for awhile, Daisy murmurs, “Now my clit, honey.”

Jemma whimpers her assent, then starts licking at Daisy’s clit. She’s gentle at first, not quite tentative but definitely careful. She’s not really able to take a lot of risks like this, but she doesn’t want to suggest that she might want to. She just wants to do what Daisy says.

Daisy nods and lets out a series of groans and little praises - “feels so good, yeah, that’s my girl” - until finally she lets out an extra-long moan and shudders against Jemma’s mouth. Her grip accidentally tightens on Jemma’s hair for a few seconds as she comes, but then she relaxes. “Good girl,” she whispers, petting Jemma’s hair. “Thank you.”

Jemma mumbles a “you’re welcome,” but she leans her head back against Daisy’s hand again, a little more insistently. She wants to be held onto. She wants to be Daisy’s.

From that, Daisy gets an idea, and leans down at the same time she tugs Jemma’s head back so that she can give her a quick kiss. “You doing okay, honey?” she asks. “Need a break or anything?”

“Uh-uh,” Jemma says. It’s strange, knowing that in any other circumstance you’d want to approach someone looking so honestly strung-out (mouth open, eyes distant) with care but that right now it’s exactly what’s needed.

Daisy smiles. “Okay then,” she says, guiding Jemma’s head back down. “I want you to make me come at least twice more, and then I’ll decide what rewards that earns you.” They don’t usually do this kind of rewards system, but since Jemma asked to be punished and Daisy’s not so much into the physical punishment element of BDSM, this seems like a good solution.

Honestly, Jemma’s not particularly into corporal punishment either (her masochistic streak is mostly emotional, and not tied in with the rest of this) but discipline can be as much of a punishment as anything. She wants set consequences, she wants to be told to do something and then to do it, she wants to make up for being bad. This is simple. This is achievable. This is exactly right.

She’s dimly aware, as she gets back to it, that she’s making a mess of herself, dimly aware that she should find this alarming. Outside of a scene like this, she’d be embarrassed to really register that she’s drooling all down her own tits. She must look debauched. But she’s making Daisy happy, she’s given herself to Daisy, and that’s what matters. If Daisy wants something to change, she’ll change it.

“Fuck,” moans Daisy as Jemma starts licking at her again. She’s still sensitive, of course, and even the tiniest movements of Jemma’s tongue feel amazing. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s so good.”

Jemma mewls out a question - like she’s searching for more direction, or at least more confirmation of what Daisy’s thinking and feeling - but she doesn’t stop for even a moment.

Daisy manages to absorb that and whimpers, “Around my clit, honey, please.”

So that’s what Jemma does, drawing circles with her tongue. She’s straining against the ropes, leaning forward into Daisy like she’s hoping for whatever contact she deserves, hoping that’s at least something.

It’s not long until Daisy’s second orgasm, which she rides out while basically humping Jemma’s face. “Okay, now slow down a little,” she says, trying for stern (it’s really not her forte, but she knows Jemma asked for it and she’s going to try to do as much of that as she can).

Jemma nods. If this was a more playful scene, she might go as slowly as possible, she might giggle about it even, but a good deal of the reason she needs this is that she knows she was a brat before and she wants to make up for it. So she slows down by approximately four seconds, taking just that tiny extra fraction of time to savor Daisy’s taste a little more.

“I know why you did what you did,” Daisy continues, “when we were looking for Fitz. I know how hard it’s been on you. But _you_ know going against my decision was a bad thing to do.”

It’s been easy, up until now, for Jemma to get caught up in the rhythm of what they’re doing, to know why she specifically is doing it, but she wasn’t sure if Daisy was actually going to address it or if it was just going to be implied, so hearing the words makes her flinch a little. But she’d rather it get acknowledged. Then it’ll be easier to recover from, if she deserves that. So she makes a show of lowering her gaze and nodding, just slightly. She knows. She doesn’t regret it, but she’s still beat herself up about it at least thirteen times a day since it happened.

Daisy pets her hair, giving her just a moment of softness, and then says, “Going against everyone else’s vote wasn’t okay, but you already know that. We would have come up with another plan to rescue Fitz. I go against orders all the time and I make stupid decisions, but you know better, honey. I expect better from you.”

Jemma whimpers in the back of her throat. This is exactly what she knows she needs, but it still stings. That she wasn’t _better_ stings. 

“But I understand why you did it,” Daisy adds. “I know how important he is to you. I just wish you’d talked to me about it more instead of making a decision that could have fucked us all over a lot worse. And I didn’t like that you undermined me in front of Piper and Davis either.”

All of this is true. There’s not a piece of it that isn’t, or that Jemma hasn’t run over in her own head already. She knows she needs to hear Daisy say it, but it still sends a chill down her spine. She could have ruined everything. She didn’t, because they were due a fraction of luck, but she could have, and that’s not okay. She stops licking at Daisy for long enough to take a deep breath, one that comes out more shuddering than she’d like.

“We’re all okay,” Daisy soothes her, gripping Jemma’s hair a little more firmly to help ground her.. “But you know how bad it could have been. Also,” she adds with a smirk, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Jemma squeaks. She hadn’t meant to stop, she really hadn’t, but - but she did, and she shouldn’t. She gets back to it, still keeping that careful pace.

“There you go.” Daisy sighs, leaning into Jemma’s touch, and then says, “But mostly I was upset because I didn’t want you to leave me, honey. I get the self-sacrifice thing, I really do, but I hated it.”

Somehow, Jemma hadn’t thought of that, or more accurately she hadn’t thought that it would be something Daisy would bring up right now. It made her ache, swallowing back the tears and pretending she’d be okay, giving up half of herself for the other half, but it had seemed like the best of bad options. Even if it had clearly, obviously hurt Daisy, even if despite the way she’s been pushing it back the image of her stricken expression is haunting, even if, even if… she’d thought she was doing what she had to. 

She’d thought it would make up for putting the rest of them in such trouble. Her mess, might as well clean it up.

“I just…” Daisy takes a deep breath. “I care about you so much, honey, I love you, and I know things are different between us because you guys got married and all, but I...you’re so important to me.”

Maybe a part of why Jemma needs this, specifically as it is, is that she needs to let Daisy talk without interrupting her with incoherent babbles. There’s so much she could say to that - it’s different but also it’s _not_ , she doesn’t want it to be, and she’s not even sure the marriage counts anymore because of all of the, well, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey, and isn’t it just like her to interrupt her emotional tirades with _Doctor Who_ jokes, and if she could she’d marry the both of them, because Daisy means so much to her, _so_ much, and in a lot of ways she’s too ashamed to admit she thinks Daisy is probably better for her in the long run but she doesn’t want to pour that on Daisy and complicate things even further, and -

She’s supposed to be making Daisy feel good. She’s not supposed to stop. She doesn’t have to try to articulate all of that because right now she can’t, every sentence she thinks about saying trails off after a squeak or a whimper. And that’s okay. That’s not what this is about. This is about Daisy feeling good and Jemma being better and the fact that even as Jemma’s gagged, Daisy will understand when she does manage to half-say “I love you too.”

Daisy hums and pets Jemma’s hair to acknowledge her understanding. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “I missed this, I missed being with you.”

That’s more likely to make her cry than any of the sternness, and as if to conceal this Jemma keeps her eyes closed as she keeps licking at Daisy. She’s focused, she has a goal in mind. It’s certainly not that she’s about to ruin cunnilingus by having a meltdown in the middle of it. (She’s a grown woman! The fact that she’s had even one of those in recent memory should appall her.)

“Yeah,” Daisy encourages her, starting to rock her hips again. “That feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

Good. Jemma can focus on good. Jemma focuses on good and she focuses on Daisy.

Daisy lets herself focus too, on how Jemma’s tongue feels against her and on Jemma’s soft little noises and on how safe and relaxed she feels, here with her girl. Her third orgasm is quieter, just a long sigh as her hips jerk. “Okay,” she says finally, “okay, now clean me up a little, honey, if you can.”

Jemma whimpers in the affirmative and nods, pressed against Daisy’s thigh to telegraph that movement. She very carefully licks up what remains of Daisy’s pleasure, trying to be gentle and trying not to accidentally work her up again (not that she’d mind, but that wasn’t the direction), and once she’s done the best she can she sits back on her heels, just enough to get a good breath, not enough to be presumptuous.

“Good girl.” Daisy cups Jemma’s cheek in her hand and smiles at her. “How are you doing? Are your knees okay?”

After a moment of consideration, Jemma nods. Her feet are probably going to be asleep the moment she tries to put weight on them, she’s messy and wet (and _wet_ ) all over, but she doesn’t care. She’s Daisy’s good girl, and the rest of the world can wait.

Daisy scoots off the bed and gets down so she’s on Jemma’s level. “I’m gonna pick you up and put you on the bed now, if that’s alright,” she says, “and then help you clean up.”

Jemma squeaks a little, but she stares into Daisy’s eyes and nods. Cleaning up would be nice, and oh, she loves it when Daisy picks her up. 

“Alright, here we go!” Daisy slips one arm under Jemma’s knees and another around her back, hoisting her up into the air and only sort of tossing her onto the bed. “Sorry, I thought that was gonna be smoother than it was,” she says with a sheepish grin before helping Jemma sit up.

Jemma giggles. Smooth doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts, and all, and before she realizes it she’s murmured nonsense to that effect.

“Aw.” Daisy gives her a quick kiss on the mouth and then reaches for the box of tissues on her nightstand and begins to gently wipe the drool off Jemma’s breasts. “Once I’m done with this I’ll take out the gag and we’ll clean up your mouth too, alright?”

Jemma nods again, suddenly feeling very silly. Sometimes she gets embarrassed about this part, but right now she needs the levity of it.

“You’re okay,” Daisy soothes, because she knows how Jemma gets. “More than, actually, you’re really hot like this. I like it when you’re all disheveled and messy and stuff.” 

Shyly, Jemma nods toward Daisy, making a noise that’s sort of accepting the praise and sort of offering herself. _For you_ , she means.

Once she’s cleaned Jemma off reasonably well, Daisy undoes the gag and gently removes it. “Hey there,” she says, giving Jemma a gentle kiss on the lips. 

“Hi-iii,” Jemma whispers, gazing at her lap.

“Oh, let me untie you too.” Daisy starts at her ankles, then moves to her thighs and arms. She gently massages where the ropes dug into Jemma’s skin, kissing each wrist. “That alright, honey?”

“Yeah,” Jemma says. She doesn’t entirely want to be untied yet, honestly, but she knows Daisy will let her keep floating as long as she needs to, rope or no rope. And she does love feeling Daisy’s hands work over her.

Daisy carefully wipes off Jemma’s mouth and chin and then hands her another tissue for any spots she missed. “Once you’re done with that, how about I give you a backrub? I think you’ve earned that.”

“If you want,” Jemma says. She doesn’t mean it dismissively, she just doesn’t want to insist on anything. She blots her face and then her breasts with the tissue, even though Daisy was plenty thorough, and she smiles timidly. “I’d like.”

“Good,” Daisy says, helping her roll over onto her stomach and lay down. Then she straddles Jemma’s legs and lets her fingertips rest on Jemma’s shoulder, using her powers to start massaging it.

As she predicted, a lot of Jemma’s body is numb to some degree or another, but as soon as Daisy starts touching her that melts away, even in places nowhere near Daisy’s hands. She just sinks into the mattress, turning her head to the right so she can breathe properly, and she lets herself really feel this. It’s not unusual for her not to realize how physically tense she is until it’s brought to her attention, and right now it’s very much brought to her attention.

She moans when Daisy hits a particularly sore spot, one of those ones that feels like it’s the bone being prodded directly, and then she laughs softly and says, “Oops.”

“Sorry,” Daisy says, adjusting a little. “Is that okay?”

“No, yeah, yeah, it is,” Jemma says quickly. “Hurts, but in a, in a good way.”

“Okay.” Daisy presses a quick kiss to the spot before continuing. “Tell me if I hurt you. This is supposed to be your reward.”

Jemma sighs a little, wistful almost. “It’s nice,” she promises, shutting her eyes contentedly. “Just surprised me.”

“Alright, honey.” Daisy slowly moves her hands across Jemma’s shoulders and back, paying special attention to the spots where Jemma whimpers or squeaks. “You did such a good job taking care of me,” she adds after a while. 

“Wanted to,” Jemma says, and then after a long, heavy pause she adds, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Daisy says. “And like I said, I understand why you did it. But thank you for apologizing.”

“I mean, about all of it,” Jemma presses. “Not just being a brat. I’m sorry for making it seem like, like you’re less important to me.”

Daisy shrugs, then realizes Jemma can’t see her do that and adds, “I know it’s just different, what you two have.”

“Yes, but…” Jemma scrunches up her nose, trying to think of the politest way to say this. Maybe there’s not, so she settles on a telling anecdote. “In that mind prison thing, when the monster with his face was trying to kill me, I remembered something. The space would give us whatever we needed. I thought about what could save me, and you know what I dreamed up?” She pauses, but for effect more than to let Daisy answer. “You. I needed you there.”

“Aw, really? That’s flattering.” That makes Daisy feel bashful, and to cover that up she gets a little snarky.

“I did,” Jemma says. “You’re my hero and I know you’ll be there for me. I can’t always do the same for you, but I want to.”

“Thanks, Jem,” Daisy says, slowing the vibrations so she can just run her hand down Jemma’s back affectionately. “I...you’re really important to me.”

“You are to me, too,” Jemma insists, arching against Daisy’s hand and then settling down very intentionally. She doesn’t want to make any excuses, but she needs to be honest. “I love him, and he’ll always be a part of me. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to find him. But if, if there’s a thing as soulmates…” She shakes her head. She must still be a little floaty to say this. “I’ve got two. That means you. And as terrible as it sounds, I love you two equally but I trust you more.”

Laughing, Daisy starts to massage the backs of Jemma’s thighs. “Yeah, I can’t really blame you there. I mean, I’m not the _most_ honest person, but compared to...well, yeah.”

Jemma sighs contentedly and lets herself enjoy that for a moment before she replies. “You’re honest to me,” she says, because generally, it’s true. “And I’d go to the ends of the universe for you, too. If I had to. I need you to know that.”

“I do, honey,” Daisy says. “Thank you. How are you feeling? You wanna cuddle? I’m pretty beat.”

“I wanna,” Jemma says. “I’m yours tonight, I promise.” Only now does she open her eyes, with the intention of staring into Daisy’s to drive her point home.

“Thank you,” Daisy repeats, kissing her shoulder before gently flipping her over on her side and spooning her. “I like it when you’re mine. And,” she continues, grinning, “you won’t have to worry about me hogging the covers.”

“I like it too,” Jemma says. “And the covers are a bonus. I, you know that I, I don’t… it’s not that being yours isn’t enough for me. You know that, right?”

Daisy wraps her arm around Jemma a little more tightly. “Yeah. I know that. I understand, promise.”

“Okay,” Jemma whispers, and she grabs Daisy’s hand so she can kiss it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
